


A Carving

by dreaminginscenes



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 08:00:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17545784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminginscenes/pseuds/dreaminginscenes
Summary: Based on a lovely piece of art by steadyknight on tumblr! As stated by the artist, Terra has a knack for carving as evident in the Birth By Sleep novel. Perhaps he once carved Aqua; perhaps she once found it; perhaps that memory haunts her in the Realm of Darkness.Also I need to get all of my Kingdom Hearts fanfics out of my system asap.





	A Carving

Her foot caught a jagged rock.

Aqua tumbled to the rough stones, scraping her knees and palms.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

What were a couple more scrapes to the countless scars tracing her arms? The bruises that colored her skin? It all felt the same.

The settling dust stuck to her sweat, adding another layer of grime. At this rate, she would gather so many minerals she would become another stone among the ruins of the darkness.

Perhaps that was all these stones were. Lost travelers, beaten down until they gave in to the despair and let themselves be swallowed by the blackness. Perhaps if she were to crack on of those misshapen forms, it would crumble to a still form kneeling like her on the jagged path.

She caught a glimpse of her hands. The calloused skin had turned black ages ago. The tips were beginning to glow like ten iron stokes heated by a fire Aqua no longer felt.

The sight didn’t frightened her. Nothing did anymore.

She sat back on her heels and hugged herself against the ever-present cold.

A soft clatter beside her drew her gaze. She brushed aside the blue fabric puddled at her side, exposing a small wooden lump lying among the chalky dust.

Had it fallen from her pocket? It couldn’t have; it was much too bulky.

Her arms felt so weak, but curiosity outweighed her fatigued. She gingerly grasped the little trinket, finding much lighter than she expected.

She turned it over once and caught her breath.

It was her; a tiny wooden bust of her. Her mind raced through faded memories, trying desperately to recall the delicate token. It looked so familiar, but why?…

She hit on it. A smile twitched at her lips, an urge she had not felt in much too long.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ven! Terra! I’m doing darks, got anything?”

“Terra’s out training!” Ven called down from his room.

Aqua groaned long and loud. “Seriously??? He’s supposed to be helping me deep clean the bathroom after he finishes his room!”

“Isn’t that why he’s training?” A crash sounded from Ven’s room, followed by a string of very clean expletives. “If I had to do the bathroom, I wouldn’t clean my room either!”

“WHAT???” Aqua dropped the laundry basket and bolted up the stairs.

Ven yelped as she rounded the corner down the hall. “Don’t come in–DON’T COME IN!!!!”

Aqua sped past his door; whatever nightmare Ven’s room might be, at least he was cleaning it. Terra, on the other hand, was about to get his lazy butt handed to him.

She skidded to a halt in front of his door and banged it with her fist; manners first as always.

After a millisecond of no reply, she slammed the door open, sending a pile of papers flying across the room.

If nothing else, Terra knew how to make a mess.

Aqua stomped over the clutter; whatever she was crushing, that was his problem now. Despite the pile of clothes barricading the closet door, she forced it open and rummaged until she found his utterly useless laundry basket. The dirty barricade was the first to go.

Kicking aside books and ripping all the blankets from his bed, Aqua found every scrap of clothing, dirty or otherwise, and threw it in the basket. She stuck a hand into the cramped space under the bed, digging for any long-forgotten socks and underwear. Amidst the inexplicable horrors, her hand hit something small and hard. As she pulled it out, her heart skipped a beat.

It was one of Terra’s wood carving projects. The unfinished edges suggested he had forgotten it about or given up. Whatever the case was, the subject was unmistakable.

It was her.

Aqua ran a finger along the hairline of the tiny figure. It was definitely her features, but there was something slightly different about the wooden girl. The lips were pursed to a hard line, and the eyes seemed to challenge some unknown foe who stood between her and her goal.

The replica was…fierce. More fierce than Aqua thought herself to be. She seemed bold and determined, a dangerous woman to cross. But it wasn’t harsh; somewhere beneath that fiery gaze was a girl who’s only purpose was to protect those she held close. This wooden Aqua was a warrior driven by her heart.

Aqua’s gaze drifted to the desk beside Terra’s bed. Wood shavings littered the surface and spilled to the floor. Sketches pinned to the wall showed plans for new carvings, complex and simple.

She stepped up beside the desk. Charcoal drawings littered the space around a half-finished wooden lump. Careful not to disturb the dust, she brushed aside a few papers.

At the bottom of the pile was a sheet of parchment filled with sketches of the figure in her hand. Notes were scrawled around the portraits, varying from simple measurements to descriptions the artist had kept for inspiration: “Strong”, “Powerful”, “Heart”, “Family”, “That one time we spared and she scared the crap out of me…”.

Was this really what Terra thought of her? It was a bit intimidating, yet oddly flattering. Aqua felt her cheeks grow hot as she read the words once more.

A scratch of charcoal hidden under the pile of papers caught her attention. She scootched the pile aside slightly.

“I can’t give this to her for her birthday! This is stupid! What would she think? Just make her the chocobo and call it good! I should just throw this away.”

Aqua couldn’t help but note that he hadn’t gotten rid of it entirely. She turned the trinket over in her hand a few times. The temptation to keep it was strong, but there was really no reason to; it would only allow her to get carried away fantasizing what he had really meant by it.

But she couldn’t exactly toss it back under the bed…it was too beautiful to stay hidden.

She delicately repositioned the pile of sketches over her portraits and with careful precision, placed the wooden statue behind the papers; just out of sight but not completely hidden.

Aqua clicked the door shut behind her, her arms empty of any laundry.

Ven poked his head out from his door. “So is Terra a dead man?”

“Huh? Oh, no. He’s busy, it’s fine.” Aqua continued down the hall in her daze, leaving Ven to wonder how Terra had miraculously escaped Aqua’s wrath.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aqua clasped the wooden figure in her black hands. The memory was so vivid, unlike the rest.

She gazed at its wooden feature. Its carved eyes stared back at her. If she could find herself in the wood, perhaps she could take some semblance of strength from the girl she once was.

But she was no longer that girl. Perhaps she never had been. This wooden girl would have been able to fight the darkness; she would have found a way to end the war even before the suffering began. Aqua, where she now kneeled in the valley of darkness, was never that girl.

The figurine fell from her hands. Tears that had not been shed in years etched new tracks down her cheeks. To what otherworldly force she did not know, she prayed the darkness would silently swallow her and end it all.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xemnas stepped into the chamber, the door sliding shut behind him soundlessly. He reached a gloved hand into his coat pocket and removed the folded paper.

His strong fingers delicately smoothed the creases from the worn and aging parchment smudged with charcoal. The old scratchings and notes mocked him from a bygone era, but his gaze remained fixed on the portrait that stared back at him.

Her eyes seemed to meet his, as though fighting to pull the boy she once knew from the man who now stood in his place.

With a sigh he returned the page to his pocket. “Hello, old friend.”

The armor scattered at his feet gave no reply, not that he ever expected one. He kneeled beside it, unsure what to say.

“I…hope you liked the gift I brought yesterday. Although perhaps it was more a gift for myself, to remind me of the face that once wore this shell.”

No reply. He knew there never would be one, but there was always a spark of anticipation that perhaps he would hear her voice again.

He had once, long ago; it seemed like a dream now. He had heard her call out to him with a name he had long since abandoned. He had seen her glorious smile. Her crystal blue eyes had pierced his, rocking him to his core once more.

Xemnas shook the memory from his mind. That was not him; not anymore at least. The only reason he still talked to this scrap metal was to pretend that old life was not completely lost to him, although he knew full well no miracle would save him from this self-inflicted hell.

The parchment in his pocket scratched his leg. He ought to burn that page and that hunk of wood. Why mourn forever what had never been, and now never would be, his?

He reached for where he had left the wooden statue and felt his hand land on the empty floor. He pushed aside an arm brace nearby; it wasn’t there. Panic built in him as he searched the pile of armor, but it yielded nothing. The carving was gone.

His mind raced through possibilities. He knew he had left it there yesterday. No one else had come in; no one else could come in. Even if they had, why would they bother with an insignificant wooden trinket?

A odd thought crossed his mind. It seemed impossible, and yet the universe worked in strange ways. Perhaps, by some mishap in time and space, that small wooden trinket had found its way to another Realm. If it had, perhaps it had also found its way to another who needed it.

That ever-faithful boy within him stirred, and for once he decided not to extinguish that spark of hope. Hope that whatever nightmare she was living, she was at least still out there, waiting.


End file.
